


Ella of the Cinders

by Sorcerors_violet



Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale)
Genre: 10th Century, Andalusia, F/M, Navarre - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-03-22 17:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13769364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorcerors_violet/pseuds/Sorcerors_violet
Summary: An adaptation of the Cinderella story set in 10th century Navarre. I have always imagined the story in 10th century Spain. Some of the characters are real, but the story comes from my own imagination.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Leaves were just beginning to bud on the tree planted on the grave of Ella’s mother. It was a fine night of early spring, lit by a full moon. Ella knelt before the grave and bowed her head. “Mother,” she whispered. “If you can hear me, please help me now. Father is dying, and I fear my stepmother. She has hated me ever since she came to our house. I fear what will happen when Father is dead. Mother, wherever you are, if you can send me help, please send it soon….”

Her plea was interrupted by the call of a servant from the main building. “Lady Ella,” she called. “Your father is asking for you. Please come now.” 

Ella rose and made her way back to the family’s castle. If she had stayed a moment longer, she may have heard the soft breeze as it rustled through the branches of the tree. 

Upstairs, her stepmother was waiting outside her father’s chamber. “He wants you now,” she said coldly, looking at her stepdaughter with pure malice. Ella was glad to enter the bedchamber.

Baron Fortun increasingly spent his days in bed now. He was weakening day by day, and his cough was getting worse. Ella heard it as she entered and immediately gave him some of the honey and rosewater mixture that the physician had made up. It helped, but only for a little while.

“My dear child,” he said weakly. “I’m not long for this world, as you know. No, don’t weep, we must all pass on sometime. But I would like to know that you were assured of a good husband before I go.”

“Father, I have never even thought of such things,” she replied.

“But you must. You are a maiden of good family. You must have a husband suited to your rank. You should attend court with your stepmother and sisters more often. That’s where the young noblemen are.”

“I don’t like court,” Ella replied. “I would rather be here with you.” Indeed she did not like the court. Her stepmother always accepted any invitation to go there, for she was determined to make advantageous matches for her daughters, but Ella found the atmosphere intimidating. She was in awe of King Garcia Sanchez, who had ruled Navarre for almost forty years now, since he was six years old, and afraid of his imperious Queen, Teresa of Leon. Besides, she did not enjoy the company of her step-family, and avoided going out with them whenever she could.

Her father was about to say something, but another coughing fit came on. “Father, you need rest,” Ella said as she gave him some more of the honey and rosewater. “Don’t worry about me.” There was a jug containing an infusion of chamomile flowers near the bed and she poured him a cup. It would help him sleep. 

The brew soon took effect. Ella did not leave once he was asleep but sat beside the bed thinking. Why did rank matter so much to the nobility, the class to which she belonged? Ella was a gentle soul, and it seemed wrong to her that so many of her class married solely for wealth and advantage, and never for love. Was not that more important than station in life, or was she being naïve?

She thought of what her father had told her about his own early life. Her mother had not been his first love. As a young man, when her grandfather was still alive, he had fallen in love with the daughter of a wealthy silk merchant of Pamplona, who had a prosperous trade with the Moors of Toledo in Andalusia. But it was unthinkable for a young man of the nobility to marry a commoner, no matter how wealthy, and her grandfather had intervened and told him never to see the girl again. Fortun had not dared disobey his father, a harsh and brutal man, and in spite of his heart, had submitted. The merchant was planning to relocate to Toledo anyway, to take over the running of the business there, and his daughter decided to join him. That had been twenty years ago.

Eventually, Fortun got over his loss and met and married her mother, a noble lady of Gothic descent called Elvira. Most of the people of Navarre were Basques, but many were of Gothic and Spanish descent too. His wife had given him an only child, a daughter also called Elvira, but known to everyone as Ella. The family had been happy, but just as Ella was becoming a woman, her mother had died. Her father, believing that a young girl should not be without a mother, had got married again not long afterwards, to a widow with two daughters. Ella had disliked her as soon as she set eyes on her. She always played the devoted wife to Baron Fortun, but the coldness within her was obvious to Ella, as was the fact that that the woman had married him for his not inconsiderable fortune. She often wondered why her father could not see it. And now he was dying. What would become of her when he was gone? 

Suddenly a strange thought came into her mind. What had happened, she wondered, to the merchant’s daughter who had settled in Toledo?

* * *

“Stop here, Khalid,” a voice commanded from inside the curtained carriage. The young Arab man obeyed, got down from the driving seat, and opened the carriage door. A girl of Arabic appearance and dress got out, and helped down a lady in her mid-thirties, richly clad in embroided silks, her chestnut hair braided with gold thread. She smiled as she looked at the walls and towers of the city in the distance. “Khalid, Rayhanah, look - there is our destination. Pamplona, the capital of Navarre. The city where I was born. To think I haven’t seen it for twenty years!” 

“Shall we wait here for Tomas, Mistress Andreatta?” said Rayhanah, her maid. 

“Yes, we shall. Let me feast my eyes upon my native land. I never knew how much I missed it until now.”

After a while a young man of Spanish appearance rode towards them, having come from the city. He dismounted and bowed to Andreatta. “I have obtained a house for us in the city, Mistress,” he said. “We may move in as soon as we wish.”

“That is well, Tomas,” Andreatta said. “We will move in as soon as possible. But before that, there is a visit I must make.” Her eyes moved to a castle on the horizon – a castle whose location she had never forgotten.

Not long afterwards, the soldiers outside Baron Fortun’s castle were somewhat bemused by the party before them. Two Arabs, who they instinctively regarded with suspicion, and two Navarrese, one of whom was clearly a lady of rank. The soldier in charge decided to address her. “I’m sorry, Lady,” he said, “but the Baron lies in his sick bed, and not likely to recover. I must ask you to leave.”

He was still alive! Andreatta had feared, ever since she set out for Pamplona, that he was dead. But now there was a chance to at least say goodbye. “Before you do,” she said, “please tell him that Andreatta has returned.”

The soldier was not sure what to do. She spoke in a way that indicated that the message was important to his master. He decided to send a subordinate into the castle to tell the Baron. It was not long before a young servant came running to the gate. Andreatta noticed that he wore a tunic with large ornamental buttons sewn onto it, in the manner of the Arabs. She had seen such styles in Toledo. “You are Mistress Andreatta?” he said. “My master wants to see you immediately. Please follow me now.” He signaled to the soldiers to stand aside, and all entered the castle courtyard. 

When they entered the main hall, a dark-haired woman with a hard face was waiting for them. Two equally dark-haired girls watched from a table nearby. “You are Andreatta?” she asked. “Please come with me, I will take you to my husband. Your servants” – she looked at the two Arabs with distaste – “must stay in the servants quarters. Buttons, take them.” The young man bowed and obeyed. Andreatta followed her hostess up a stone stairway, her veil of fine purple silk trailing behind her. Indeed, the Baroness took careful note of Andreatta’s clothes, a mixture of Moorish and Northern styles. Few noblewomen dressed so finely. A sense of anger against this stranger began to rise up in her.

When they entered Fortun’s bedroom, he was sitting up with a pretty girl beside him. As soon as he saw his old love his face broke into a smile, and he raised himself up on his elbows. “Andreatta!” he cried with all the strength he could muster. “Of all joys, this is the most unexpected – and the most welcome! To see you again before I die! What brings you back here?”

“My father died some years ago, and my brother takes care of the business now. Last year, my husband died, and after that…. I can’t explain it, but not long ago I felt somehow that I needed to return. Perhaps I needed to see mountains again, and forests and snow. You can’t imagine how hot and dry and….. and flat Andalusia is, compared with Navarre.”

“So you came back.” Fortun chuckled. “You couldn’t resist the call of the Pyrenees!” He coughed and then mentioned something else. “You spoke of your husband. You married in Toledo then?”

“Yes.” Andreatta lowered her eyes for a moment. “A few years after I arrived there I married.”

“Any children?”

“No. There were no children. I see that you have three beautiful daughters though.”

“Only Ella here is my daughter.” Fortun gestured to the girl beside his bed. “Urraca and Sancha are the daughters of Lady Toda here, my second wife. Ella’s mother died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” She should have realized. The pretty girl at the bedside was not dark-haired like most Navarrese, but had light brown hair that showed Gothic ancestry. Toda and her daughters, like Andreatta herself and the Baron, were Basques. Andreatta was silent for a moment, reflecting that the girl might have been hers. 

“You must join us for dinner,” Fortun said, propping himself up on his pillows. “I’ll send orders to the cooks.”

“Husband, you are not in a fit condition to leave your bed,” said Lady Toda. 

“Nonsense. I’m not dead yet, wife. Tell the servants to lay an extra place at table, and inform them that I’ll be there myself.”

So it happened that Andreatta found herself together with the Baron and his whole family seated at the table in the great hall. The atmosphere was tense. She could sense that her presence was not welcome to Lady Toda. Yet the girl Ella seemed curious about her, and perhaps, she thought, wanted to be friendly.

“So you lived for twenty years in Toledo, in the kingdom of the Moors,” Lady Toda said. “The Moors are heathens, and I have heard that they practice witchcraft.”

“It is not witchcraft,” Andreatta replied. “Only fools, who think anything they cannot understand is magic, call it that. The Moors are more learned than any other people on earth. Their wise men have written many books, and they also possess all the knowledge of the Greeks.”

“What are the Greeks?” Ella asked.

“People who lived a long time ago in a land to the east. They had many wise men, and the Moors have translated all their writings into their own language. All the knowledge of the world is to be found in Toledo – astronomy, geometry, medicine. And in the schools, the Muslim, the Christian and the Jew all study together. There is no better place for learning.”

“It must be wonderful to know such things,” Ella said. “I can’t even read or write.”

“What need has a lady of rank to read or write?” said Toda. “We leave that to the monks and the scribes…. and the low merchant class.” She looked pointedly at Andreatta, who did not rise to the bait.

“I’ve always regretted not learning to read or write,” said the Baron. “The world is changing, wife. King Garcia made peace with the Moors over twenty years ago, and since then there has been a lot of coming and going between our kingdom and Andalusia. Many of our people go there to study and some of the Moors come here to teach. Why, our king has even had his own son, Prince Ramiro, instructed in the language of the Moors.”

“That may be fitting for a prince…” Toda began, but her husband had more to say. “Would you like to learn to read and write, Ella?”

“I would,” the girl replied.

“Then you have my permission to do so. And who better to teach you than Andreatta here?” He laughed. “I always remember how amazed I was, twenty years ago, when you and your father did it. It seemed like magic to me. But now it is more common.”

“Then Ella may visit me at my home at any time,” the merchant’s daughter replied. “She will be most welcome.”

Soon afterwards, Fortun was overwhelmed by another coughing fit, and had to be helped to bed by Ella. Toda gave Andreatta a dark look, but her tone remained polite. “You must leave now, Mistress,” she said. “Buttons will show you out.” She sent for him, and he soon reappeared together with Andreatta’s servants.

“Why do they call you Buttons?” Andreatta asked as they left the castle. “Oh because of the buttons sewn onto my tunic,” the young man replied. 

“It’s a Moorish style,” said Andreatta. “Have you ever lived in Andalusia?”

“No, but the fashion is becoming more common. We see them here more and more nowadays, ever since King Garcia’s peace. But no, I’ve never left Navarre. My mother was Lady Ella’s nurse. We were brought up together almost like brother and sister.”

But your feelings for her are not wholly those of a brother are they? Andreatta reflected, looking at the young man’s face. But of course, the difference in their rank made it impossible. It reminded her of her own experience. She changed the subject. “Does Lady Toda get on well with her stepdaughter?”

His face clouded. “No, I don’t think so. She never shows it openly, but you can tell she resents her. She has ever since she came to the house. I think she wants her own daughters to be my Lord’s favourites – and to inherit his property too. Lady Ella is too kindly a soul to speak to my Lord about it. She does not want to add to his burdens as he lies dying. Yet his death will come soon, and when it does….” He stopped and shook his head. 

“Poor girl. Well, she has no mother and I have no children, so I will be as a mother to her, Buttons. I will be her godmother, as it were. You may accompany her when she comes to my house.”

* * *

“Mother, how many times have we discussed this?” Prince Ramiro was starting to lose patience with his mother Queen Teresa, the proud daughter of the King of Leon. “My older brother is the crown prince, and that is the end of the matter.”

“That woman was not your father’s wife,” the Queen retorted. “The marriage was annulled. Her children are not legitimate.”

“Well, the bishops and the canon lawyers say otherwise. My brother Sancho will succeed to the throne, mother. Accept it.”

“You can at least succeed to part of the kingdom. I will speak to your father about giving you a share along with your half-brother. There’s another matter we need to discuss, too. You are nineteen, almost twenty. It is time you thought of a wife. Now, your cousin, the daughter of my brother …..”

“I have no desire to marry my cousin mother,” Ramiro said. “I’ve never even met her. Besides, I want to marry where my heart inclines.”

“Your father should never have put you into the hands of monks and scholars,” said the Queen. “What ideas have they put into your head? No prince marries where his heart inclines – he marries for the good of the kingdom. A match between you and your cousin would keep our two kingdoms allied.”

“We don’t need royal marriages to keep all our kingdoms here in the north allied,” Ramiro replied. “Something much more effective does that – fear of the Moors down south in Andalusia. I know we have been at peace with them for twenty-three years now, but no-one knows what the future will bring. I won’t marry a woman I’ve never seen for such a reason, Mother, no more than I will be my brother’s rival for the throne. Let us speak no more of it.”

“As you wish.” The Queen stood up. “However, I will talk to your father about your future. And you will learn to behave as a prince, my son.” With that, she summoned her servants, and departed.  
Ramiro sighed. He was not jealous of his half-brother, and did not resent his position, but he knew well that nothing would satisfy his mother other than the title of ‘king’ for her son. He did not want her ambitions to drive a wedge between him and his brother - or between him and his father. He felt anxious. What was she planning for his future? 

* * * 

Lady Toda was not in a good mood. The appearance of the stranger from the south had filled her with an anger she could barely contain. Her husband obviously still felt affection for this woman even though he had not seen her for twenty years. How dare she suddenly burst into their lives, so beautifully dressed, so self-assured, with all her talk of learning …….but still a low commoner after all. And how dare she give Ella ideas not suitable for her station? She would put a stop to that as soon as she could. However, that was not the main thing on her mind, as she made her way down to the castle’s scriptorium.

The chief scribe rose and bowed to her as she entered. “My Lady. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if my husband has made a will,” she said. “As we all know, he will soon be gone, and I would not see the estate fall into chaos if he dies without a will. I presume you have drawn one up for him.”

“Of course, Lady. He ordered me to do so as soon as his illness struck. Here it is.” He picked up a large scroll, and showed it to her.

Toda was no more able to read than her husband, but she recognized his name on the bottom of the scroll, the only thing he was able to write. She wondered what it contained, but felt it would seem suspicious to ask. The scribe was an honest man, and loyal to his master. Nonetheless, she had to know what it contained. She knew that Fortun had a considerable estate, and she wanted as much of it for herself and her daughters as possible. She had an inheritance from her first husband, but it was not enough. Nothing was more important in securing a husband for a girl than the wealth she could bring him, and she did not want simply to make advantageous marriages for her daughters – she wanted them to marry into the royal family itself. It was vital that she found out what was in that will.

It was easy enough to do this. Her first husband’s scribe had accompanied her when she moved into her new home, and also worked in the scriptorium. So she crept downstairs that night, recovered the will from the scriptorium, and then brought it to the scribe in his chamber. She knew that he was dependent on her for his occupation, and would readily do what she asked. Indeed, she soon learnt what she needed to know. 

“He has left two-thirds of his estate to Elvira, the daughter of his first marriage,” the scribe said. “The rest is to be divided equally between you and your daughters.”  
Toda clenched her fists in rage. Of course, she should have expected it. The brat he doted on – and how she hated her for that reason alone -would get the bulk of his estate. Her own daughters would be left with a paltry inheritance that would get them a husband from the minor nobility at best. She would not stand by and see it happen! Some way, by some means, that will would be changed.


	2. Chapter 2

“I have never seen so many books,” said Ella, as she wandered around the library in Andreatta’s house. “Even in my father’s scriptorium there are hardly any. In truth, most of the scribes’ work is just the affairs of the estate. But these books are different. They are full of wisdom.” She picked one up and handed it to Andreatta. “What is this about?” 

“This?” Andreatta smiled. “This is by a Greek called Euclid.” She picked up another scroll. “And this is by a Moor called Al-Razi. He wrote about medicine and herblore.”

“Are they in the language of the Moors?”

“Yes, they are in Arabic. You may learn it one day, but before that, you must learn to read and write in our own language.”

“How did you learn all these things?” Ella asked. “I have heard that among the Moors, women are locked away.”

“That is true of some of them,” replied Andreatta. “But not always. There are many learned men in Toledo, and they like their wives and daughters to be educated too. They have a collection of stories called The Thousand and One Nights, in which the storyteller is a learned lady called Shahrazad. When we arrived in Toledo, the chief merchant - my father had had dealings with him for many years - had a wife who was another Shahrazad. She took me under her wing.”

“I’d like to learn herblore,” Ella said. “When I was young, my mother used to take me to the woods and show me the plants there. She prepared remedies for the villagers on our estate. But she died before she could teach me what she knew.” 

“Then we will go on a visit to the woods next time you visit,” Andreatta said. “But now, I think it is time for you to return home.”

They summoned Buttons from the kitchen, where he was eating with Andreatta’s servants Rayhanah, Khalid and Tomas. The young man usually accompanied Ella on her visits. Andreatta watched as they departed in the Baron’s carriage. She was starting to feel affection for Ella as for a daughter of her own. 

When they arrived back at the castle, Ella’s stepsisters Urraca and Sancha were waiting. They never lost any opportunity to bait Ella when her father was not around, and now was no exception.

“Here comes our lady scribe,” Sancha said sarcastically, as she entered the Great Hall. “Yes, we’ll see her working in the scriptorium soon,” Urraca added. “Or perhaps she’ll go and live among the Moors like her new friend, and end up as a merchant’s wife.”

“No, worse than that,” said Sancha. “She may even end up married to a Moor. Can you imagine a worse fate than that? The wife of a heathen Moor!”

“Did not our own king’s great-grandfather marry his daughter to the Emir of Cordoba?” Ella asked. But trying to reason with her step-sisters was not worth the effort. She turned away from them, and headed upstairs to her father’s chamber.

* * *

In the scriptorium, Lady Toda’s scribe was not feeling very comfortable. He did not know how he could do what she wanted him to do.”

“I cannot write another will for his Lordship without his knowledge,” he stammered. “It is against the law. Besides, he would have to sign it, and he will not do that if I write what you want me to write.”

“Leave it to me to get him to sign it. Your task is simply to write what I tell you.” She held up the bag of gold coins in her hand significantly. “It will be well worth your while. On the other hand, what will you do if you are dismissed?”

The scribe was confused. He had been loyal to his former master, and remained loyal to his widow. He did not want to do what he clearly knew to be wrong, but he also had no idea what he would do if he lost his post. Professional letter-writers could hire themselves out in the streets of Pamplona, but they had few customers and their income was uncertain. Trembling, he picked up his quill and began to write.

Toda’s next visit was to an herbalist. The man was careful as he weighed out the required herb, and put it into a small bag. He handed it to Toda. “Be very careful, Lady,” he said. “You know what the consequences of going over the prescribed dose are.”

“I know,” she replied. She paid the herbalist and departed. 

She had to arrange everything carefully. First, she brought her own scribe to her husband’s bedchamber. She made sure that no-one was attending him when she did this, but she was also careful to make sure that the servants saw them going into his chamber. The conversation with the Baron was solely about affairs of the estate – but no-one outside the room would know that. She was pleased. She had accomplished the first stage of her plan.

Over the next few days, Baron Fortun seemed to deteriorate. He became increasingly delirious, and his eyes would often fixate on things that seemed not to be there. Ella was sure that the end could not be far away.

It was on a day that Ella was visiting Andreatta that Lady Toda entered Fortun’s chamber with a document in her hand. Buttons had not accompanied Ella that day and was attending the Baron. He bowed as she entered.  
“Husband, I am sorry to disturb you,” she said, “but you have forgotten to sign this document. It is important.”

“Important?” He seemed to have trouble understanding. 

She leaned close to him. “Your will,” she said. 

“Will…….” His eyes met hers and fixated on her. They were wide open. But there was no understanding there.

She placed a quill in his hand. He stared at it. “Buttons, help my husband hold the quill,” she said. She knew that Buttons was as illiterate as almost everyone else in the household, and would not know what the document contained. But he was not stupid, and he looked at her curiously. “Lady, has the Master made another will?”

“It was a few days ago,” she said. “However, he was already starting to lose his reason and forgot to sign it.” Buttons had indeed seen her going to his room with the scribe, and would have no reason to doubt this. “Help him sign his name now.” He did so, and she departed with the document. Buttons looked after her, a perplexed expression on his face. She, for her part was delighted with the way things had gone. The fake will had been signed, and she had a witness to prove it. Now all she had to do was to burn the other will and no-one would be any the wiser. She also had no reason to continue administering him the drug she had used to confuse him. She was an unscrupulous woman, but not a murderess.

* * *

Spring was well advanced when Ella and Andreatta went to the woods around Pamplona. Andreatta pointed out the medicinal plants she knew off, but Ella was more interested in the beauty of the flowers around her. She seemed happier than she had been in a long time.

“How is your father?” Andreatta asked. 

“He is improving,” Ella said cheerfully. ”For a while, we thought the end was near, when he was sinking into delirium every day. But he seems to have recovered now. He is taking an interest in his affairs again.”

Andreatta smiled sady. She had read in some of the Moorish medical books that people at death’s door often rallied before the end, but she did not want to tell Ella that. Let her still hope while she could!

In another part of the wood, Prince Ramiro and his retinue were strolling around, wondering what to do. The prince had gone there to hunt, but the beauty of the day, the warm sunlight, and the fragrance of the flowers had turned his mind away from harming any of the living things in the forest. This was a day to celebrate life, not to inflict death. “I feel disinclined for hunting today, gentlemen,” he told his attendants. “You may divest yourselves of your hunting attire, and occupy yourselves as you please. We will return to the city at sunset.” 

He entered a grove with his valet, and sat on a rock. He seemed lost in thought, so the valet decided to remind him of something. “Your Highness, the men should not go too far away. Remember, woods like these are often the haunts of outlaws.”

“You’re right.” He called to the men and reminded them to stay near. “But I doubt there are many outlaws here. We are more likely to meet foresters, or simple villagers going about their business. They will most likely run away as soon as they realize who I am. That’s one of the problems with being a prince, Jimeno. People are always humbled in your presence. You never get the chance to really know them.” He stood up. “Maybe there’s a chance now. Let’s change clothes, Jimeno, so people think I’m you, and you are me. That way, I may get to know some of my father’s subjects better than I could ever know them in the palace.”

“Your Highness, are you sure this is a good idea…..?” Jimeno did not like to think of what the consequences would be if anything went wrong. But the prince was quite insistent, and soon he was dressed in Ramiro’s clothes, while Ramiro was attired in the plainer dress of a valet. “Now let’s explore the woods and see who we meet,” he insisted. 

They did not need to go very far. Andreatta had decided to abandon the lesson in herblore and let her companions do as they pleased. She and Ella sat near a stream and watched the sunlight glinting on the water. “Do you ever miss Andalusia? ” Ella asked. “Or is Navarre more beautiful?” Andreatta hesitated. “Andalusia is a beautiful place,” she said at last. “The gardens of paradise that the Moors build are full of blossoms that are gorgeous beyond imagination, and the scent of orange blossom on summer evenings is a thing that will stay with me forever. But in the end, the wildness of the mountains, forests and lakes is part of me. This is my home.” 

Suddenly Ella jumped up. “Where are the servants?” she asked. Andreatta looked around. She could see Tomas waiting for them with the carriage on a nearby path, but Khalid and Rayhanah had disappeared. “They must have decided to explore the woods by themselves,” Andreatta said. “Let’s find them.”

Khalid and Rayhanah, fascinated by the unfamiliar plants and trees, were making their way through the woods, chatting to each other in their own language. They had not yet met anyone else in Navarre who spoke Arabic, and so they were very surprised when a young man appeared from a nearby grove, and greeted them in that language. Taken aback, they stopped and looked at each other, and then at the young man. He was plainly dressed. There was a more richly dressed man in the background, but he said nothing. Obviously he was the master and the other was a servant

Not sure what to do, Khalid and Rayhanah remained silent. The young man repeated his greeting. It was not, however, the two young Moors who answered him. A richly-dressed woman, of Navarrese appearance, emerged from a nearby grove, and replied. The young man bowed. From her dress, she was obviously a lady of rank. He could not stop his eyes from straying, however, to the beautiful young girl who accompanied her.

“You are not a Moor, lady,” he said in Arabic. “How is it you speak their tongue?”

“I lived in their land for twenty years,” Andreatta replied in the same language. “My father was a merchant of Toledo. But few here can speak that tongue. May I ask you the same question – how do you know it?”

For a moment, Ramiro considered revealing his identity. He decided against it, not least because he wanted to make the acquaintance of her beautiful companion. “I am the valet of His Highness Prince Ramiro, who is learned in the knowledge of the Moors” he replied. “His Highness is over there, in the wood. You may not approach him.” He shot his valet a warning look, and returned his attention to the two ladies. “Whom do I have the honour of addressing?” 

“I am called Andreatta,” she replied. “This is Ella, the…..” she hesitated. She could see that Ella was gazing at the young man as intensely as he was gazing at her. No doubt she feared that if he knew she was a nobleman’s daughter, he would then become reluctant to speak to her. Andreatta had seen through the deception immediately, of course, but if the prince wanted to maintain it, she would go along with it. “Ella is my goddaughter,” she explained. “We are here in the woods today to teach her herblore.”

“Herblore? That would be a great mystery to me, Lady,” he said, bowing to Ella. “Do you come to the woods often?”

“As often as my godmother desires it,” Ella replied with a smile. She felt very taken with this affable young man.

“Then perhaps we shall meet again. His Highness often comes to the woods to hunt.”

“Indeed, I would like that,” said Ella. She spoke from her heart. For some reason the difference in their rank did not occur to her at that moment. 

They spoke with the prince a little while longer and then took their leave. Andreatta smiled as she looked at Ella in the carriage on the journey back to Pamplona. The girl was staring dreamily out of the window. She decided to broach the subject that she was sure was on her mind.

“The prince’s valet was very handsome, wasn’t he?” she said.

“Yes. And courteous and… and this seemed strange to me, godmother…..he seemed very learned too.”

“Oh yes. A clever valet, indeed, to speak Arabic.”

Ella turned and looked at Andreatta, as she realized what she meant.

* * * 

Over the next few days, Ella found it hard to concentrate on her duties, even where her father was concerned. Her stepmother and stepsisters did not fail to notice this, and used it as another excuse for barbed comments whenever they could.

“You seem lost in dreams these days, Ella” Toda said to her. “I hope the Moorish witchcraft that that common merchant’s daughter is teaching you is not turning your head.”

“No, it’s not that,” Urraca said maliciously. “She’s met some stranger in the woods, and can’t stop thinking about him.”

“She acts as though he’s the prince himself, ” Sancha added.

Ella had indeed realized that the handsome stranger in the woods was Prince Ramiro. She hoped to meet him again the next time they were in the woods, but could she hope for more than that? There were rumours in the city that he was refusing the wife his mother wanted for him, and as she was a Baron’s daughter, a marriage between them was not out of the question. If only Andreatta would arrange another visit to the woods soon!

“Girl, your father is waiting for you,” Toda said harshly. “You should be attending on him. Go now!”

Ella dutifully obeyed, and went upstairs. He seemed more peaceful now than he had been for a long time, but he was clearly weak and fading. He smiled when he saw her.

“My dear child,” he said weakly. “I am fading. Such a pity… I won’t live to see you married…”

“Yet it may happen soon, father,” she said. “It may happen sooner than you think.”

A few evenings later Andreatta was in her room poring over some documents when Rayhanah brought her some mint tea. “What are you looking at, Mistress?” she asked.

“At the horoscopes of Ella and Prince Ramiro,” she answered. “They are ideal for each other according to the stars. I think theirs would be a happy marriage indeed.”

“Then we should go to the woods again,” Rayhanah suggested. “When do we know the prince will be there?”

“He hunts regularly I believe, so another meeting will not be too difficult to arrange……” She stopped as she heard a loud knocking on the door. “Get Khalid to see who that is, Rayhanah.”

It turned out to be Buttons, saying he had an urgent message. He was admitted to Andreatta’s presence looking exhausted, as though he had run from the Baron’s castle to her home. She looked at him curiously. “You have an urgent message for me, Buttons?”

“Yes. I am sorry I have to say it, but my Mistress, Lady Ella wanted you to know as soon as possible. Her father, my Lord, is dead.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Andreatta was not of course invited to the funeral, but she watched from afar. She could see Ella weeping bitterly, but the Baron’s second wife remained dry-eyed throughout. She decided to leave before anyone saw her. She knew that Lady Toda did not like her, and did not want to cause a scene on such a day.

It was late in the afternoon when the family gathered for the reading of the will. The chief scribe was there, along with other scribes from the scriptorium, and a canon lawyer, to see that all was in order. The scribe read out the will, with increasing incredulity as he proceeded.

“…and the whole of my estate goes to my lady wife Toda, to be divided equally among her daughters on her death,” he read. He looked up, amazed. “I did not write that!” he proclaimed.

“No, of course not,” Lady Toda said calmly. “My Lord made another will shortly before he died. It was my scribe here who wrote it down – is that not so, fellow?”

The scribe nodded, afraid to speak.

“You mean he has left me nothing?” Ella said. “I can hardly believe it.”

“When a man acquires a second family, he must take them into account as well as his first,” Toda replied, as smoothly as before.

“Yes… I see that…. But to leave me nothing – no, I don’t believe it. It’s not his real will….it’s a forgery.”

“Is it signed?” asked the canon lawyer.

“You can see my husband’s signature here.” Toda pointed it out. “And did anyone witness the signing?” the lawyer went on.

Toda turned to one of the maids in attendance. “Girl, call Buttons immediately.” It was not long before the young man was present.

“Buttons, do you remember being with me when my husband signed this will?” Toda asked him.

“Indeed, my Lady, I remember it well.”

“But he was not in his right mind for some time before he died,” Ella said to the lawyer. She glared at her stepmother, her face full of anger. “She got him to do it then……that means it’s not legal, doesn’t it?” 

Toda remained unruffled. “He was quite aware of what he was doing.” She looked at Buttons again. “You remember seeing me and the scribe entering his chamber, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Lady.”

“And was my husband not in his right mind then?”

“He was, Lady.”

“Then that settles it.” She looked at everyone triumphantly. “The will is legal. Is that not so, Master?” she asked the lawyer. “It would seem so,” he said. Everything is in order.”

“No!” Ella cried out. “He would never treat me like that. I can challenge it…... surely I can!”

“Child, you are not in your right mind,” her stepmother said. “The day has been too much for you. Buttons, take her to her chamber until she is better.”

Ella attempted to pull away as he placed an arm around her shoulder. “Lady, it would be better to do as she says,” he whispered. Knowing that she could trust her old playmate, she went with him quietly. By the time they were in her chamber, she had calmed down. “Buttons, there is something terribly wrong here,” she said. He nodded in agreement. “I think so, too, Lady. I don’t know what it is, but I think so.”

“Perhaps Mistress Andreatta can help. Send a message to her, Buttons.”

“I’ll do so, Lady.” 

He did not get the chance to do so. Shortly afterwards, her stepmother and stepsisters entered, and Toda grinned at her with undisguised malice. “I see you are in a better mood,” she said. “Well, we must decide what to do with you now. What are the options for a girl with no fortune? The nunnery, perhaps. It’s usual when a girl has no prospect of a husband.”

“No,” Urraca put in. “Life would be too easy for her there. Why not send her to the kitchens? We need more servants there, and it would teach her her new place.”

“A good idea. Very well. Buttons, take her to the servants’ quarters.”

“I’m sorry?” Buttons blinked in astonishment

“You heard what I said. Take her to the servants quarters.”

“Mistress, you can’t make Lady Ella a servant…”

“I think you’ll find I can do as I like now. Take her to the servants’ quarters! Or would you like to find yourself out on the street soon?”

Buttons shot Ella a warning glance. Again, he placed an arm around her shoulder and began to lead her away. “Just one more thing,” Toda snapped as they left. “Neither of you are ever to see that witch from Andalusia again.”

* * * 

“We haven’t seen Lady Ella for a long time,” Rayhanah said to Andreatta as she tidied her chamber.

“She will need time to grieve for her father,” Andreatta replied. “She’ll come to us when she’s ready.”

“Actually, Mistress, I think there may be another reason. Sometimes, I meet Buttons, her father’s servant, in the marketplace.” Do you now? Andreatta thought. She smiled. Perhaps the young man was getting over his impossible feelings for his mistress. “I think her stepmother is stopping her from visiting us. When I ask about her, he avoids answering, or gives vague answers. I think something is happening that he doesn’t want to tell me about.”

“Is that so?” Andreatta mused. “Rayhanah, next time you go to the market, it might be a good idea if I accompanied you.”

They caught up with him in the marketplace a few days later. He was surprised to see Andreatta, as people of wealth normally did not visit such places themselves. Andreatta came straight to the point. “Buttons, what is happening with Ella?” she asked. “Why does she not visit me anymore.”

He looked around and seemed uneasy. “Mistress, perhaps we should talk about this somewhere private.” There was a churchyard nearby. “Let’s go there.” 

Even when they were in the garden, Andreatta’s servants keeping watch at the gate, he still seemed reluctant to talk. She pressed him again. “What is happening with Ella? Is her stepmother stopping her from visiting me?”

“Mistress, do you know about my master’s will?” She shook her head. “It seems that he wrote Lady Ella completely out of his will before he died. All his estate went to Lady Toda and her daughters. Lady Ella has nothing at all.”

“That’s hard to believe, Buttons.”

“I thought so too. But I was there when he signed it. Anyway, the important thing is, they have made Lady Ella a servant. She spends all her time now in the kitchens, doing the work of a kitchenmaid. Her stepsisters have taken all her fine clothes, and force her to dress in sackcloth. The other maids still treat her with respect, of course. They remember how kind she was to them when she was the mistress. But she has to work at the spits, and is covered in black marks from the cinders all day. Her stepsisters sneer at her and call her Ella of the Cinders. They mock her every chance they get. Of course, she is absolutely forbidden to see you. And so am I.” Once again, he looked around uneasily.

“I cannot believe that the Baron would treat his daughter like this. I could see how he doted on her when I was there. Are you quite sure that he was in his right mind when he made this second will?”

“Well, I wasn’t there when it was drawn up. I only saw the scribe going into the bedroom. But he seemed quite normal then. It was only when he signed it that he seemed distracted. But that doesn’t make any legal difference, does it?”

“I don’t know.” Andreatta was silent for a while. Then she asked: “Can you tell me exactly how he was when he signed it?”

“Well, he was confused. He was often confused at that time in his illness. And his eyes were so strange. Staring straight ahead, and so black.”

“Black?”

“Yes. You know, I haven’t thought about it until now. But his eyes were black. I suppose I just thought it was his illness. Is it important, Mistress?” 

“I’m not sure. It might be. Tell me, is there any way in or out of the castle that your mistress doesn’t know about.” He thought for a moment. “Yes, there’s an old tunnel that leads from the cellars to the local church. It was built as a way of escaping to a place of sanctuary if the castle was ever attacked. I don’t think it’s ever been used.” Andreatta nodded. “Very good. We can meet there if we need to. You can send messages to me via Rayhanah. In the meantime, you had better carry on with your business. I’ll return home. I have a lot to think about.” She was thinking in particular about the detail of the black eyes. She was sure she had heard of something like it before, but could not remember exactly what. She would consult the medical books of Al-Razi as soon as she returned home.

* * *

Ramiro wondered why he had been summoned to the presence of both his mother and his father. He could hardly believe that his mother had persuaded King Garcia to make him his successor, in place of his elder brother. So what was it about? Had they finally decided to force him to marry his cousin? He hoped not. He had hardly been able to stop thinking about the beautiful girl he had met in the woods, all those days ago. Every time he had gone hunting, he had hoped to see her again. Although he had learnt almost nothing about her, her bearing had been noble, and he was sure she was a suitable wife for a prince. Or was that just a lover’s optimism? 

King Garcia was seated on an elaborate chair, his wife beside him, when Ramiro entered their presence. He bowed to both of them, and waited.

“My son,” the King said, “your mother and I have been discussing your future. The Queen has long wished for me to make you my heir apparent, but she now accepts that there can be no legal basis for this. Nonetheless, I can still give you a kingdom of your own. The region of Viguera, in the Pyrenees, was once ruled by the Moors, and they want it back. It needs a strong defender against them, and with its own king it will have one. You will not be completely independent, of course. You will be subregulus to your brother Sancho.”

“Meaning I must help him if the Moors attack Navarre,” Ramiro said matter-of-factly.

“Exactly. But otherwise you will rule Viguera in your own right. I trust that this arrangement will keep everyone happy.”

“It is more than I could have hoped for,” Ramiro said. He did not really desire to be a king of any sort at all, but now that his father had decreed it, he had no choice.

“There is just one more thing,” said Queen Teresa. “Any king without an heir is in a precarious position. You must marry and have an heir.”

His heart sank. Was she about to tell him that the marriage to his cousin was already decided upon?

“Since you refuse to marry your cousin, you must choose a wife from our own people. It is your birthday soon. We will arrange a great festivity, and invite as many of the unmarried noble ladies of Navarre as we can. You must choose a wife from amongst them. “

Ramiro looked at his father. The king nodded his agreement. At first, he wanted to say no. His mind was full of the girl in the forest. But how could he refuse his father’s wishes because of a girl he hardly knew? Besides, she was surely a nobleman’s daughter. No doubt she would be there.

* * *

Andreatta closed the volume of Al-Razi. So that was it! Belladonna. The herb was fatal in large doses, she knew, but in smaller doses it could be used to produce a state of confusion and delirium, and one of its effects was to dilate the pupils of the eyes, making them appear black. That was what Buttons had seen. She sat and thought. It was starting to make sense. Toda must have used a potion of the herb to get the Baron into a state of confusion in which she could persuade him to draw up another will. Then, when that was done, she stopped it, thus causing the return to calm Ella had noticed in his final days. Naturally, everyone would attribute the strange events to his illness. There would be no reason to suspect anything else. 

Andreatta stopped herself. She had no proof of any of this, and furthermore, Buttons said the Baron had been lucid when the will was written. 

“Andreatta, stop and think,” she said to herself out loud. “What did your Arabian masters teach you? Remember the logic of Aristotle. Try and think it out clearly.” Although she had no proof that Belladonna had been used, what proof was there, in fact, that the Baron had been in his right mind when the second will was drawn up? No-one except Toda and her scribe had been present. Buttons had only seen them entering his room, he had not been there. How was she to solve this mystery? What would Aristotle have done? First, he would have gathered all the facts, then theorised. She would do the same. Her first move would be to find out something about the scribe.


	4. Chapter 4

Urraca and Snacha were delighted to receive an invitation to Prince Ramiro’s birthday celebration. In order to annoy Ella, they decided to go down to the kitchens to discuss it.

“They say he will choose a wife at the feast,” Sancha said. “Only the most beautiful girl in Navarre will do.”

“Then it certainly won’t be you,” said Urraca spitefully. The sisters were not fond of each other.

“Nor you, either. Still, we know who it definitely won’t be – our little cinderwench here. I wonder, did she think the handsome stranger she met in the forest was the prince? Well, she’ll never know now.” 

Ella was sure he was the prince, but what chance did she have of ever meeting him again? She looked at herself, clad in coarse cloth flecked with black spots, herself dirty and covered in ashes. He would not recognize her now even if he saw her again. She turned away.

“Look, she has tears in her eyes,” sneered Urraca.

“It’s only the smoke from the fire,” Ella said. She wiped her eyes. “I will be fine once it’s died down.”

“Yes, of course you will,” Sancha said. “But why should we trouble ourselves about her, sister? Let’s think of what we’re going to wear for the feast. Come, let’s choose from our finest clothes.” This was a parting shot at Ella, as most of their finest clothes had once been hers – and they were sure she would never have such fine robes again. As was she. As soon as she was alone, she sank down into the corner by the fire, covered her face with her hands, and let the tears flow.

* * *  
As usual, Andreatta spent the evening reading in her chamber. Rayhanah was always curious about what she read, and noticed that her mistress was particularly absorbed this evening. “What are you reading, Mistress?” she asked. 

“It’s an old Greek story,” Andreatta replied. “A man called Strabo, I think, wrote it a long time ago. It’s about a girl called Rhodopis, who was a slave in Egypt. She was treated cruelly by the other slave girls, but she bore it all patiently. Then one day, a falcon flew down from heaven and took away one of her golden sandals. The falcon took it to where the King of Egypt was holding court and dropped it in his lap. In old Egypt, they thought falcons were signs from one of their gods, so the king thought this was a message from the gods. He decided to go around the kingdom, and find out whose sandal it was. Eventually, he found Rhodopis, fell in love with her and made her his queen. So virtue was rewarded after all.”  
“We have a story like that too,” said Rayhanah. “It’s about a girl called Maha. She was a fisherman’s daughter, cruelly treated by her stepmother. But a magical fish in a nearby river was her friend and always helped her. One day all the women of her town were invited for a wedding preparation ceremony, and the fish gave her a silk robe and golden slippers so she could go. But on her way home, she lost one of the slippers, and the bride’s brother found it. He visited all the women of the town until he found the one it fitted, and then he and Maha were married.”

“How strange,” Andreatta mused. “The same situations happen again and again, don’t they, all around the world? And now we have our own Rhodopis or Maha.”

“You mean Lady Ella?”

“Yes. Her situation is very similar, isn’t it?”

“I wonder if her story will have such a happy ending,” said Rayhanah.

“It will if I can manage it. Rayhanah, did I not once have a pair of golden slippers? They were a gift from my teacher, the wife of the chief merchant of Toledo. Go to my closet and see if you can find them, will you?”

Rayhanah soon found them and gave them to her mistress. They were beautiful slippers in the Moorish style, made of cloth of gold, and embroidered with the geometrical designs that were popular among the Arabs. She looked at them for a long time. “Yes, we may well have our own Rhodopis or Maha,” she said at last. “Rayhanah, go and bring me the astronomical ephemeris. These old stories have given me an idea.”

Rayahanah brought the ephemeris and remained in attendance on her mistress. She knew that her mistress believed that Ella and Prince Ramiro were astrologically very compatible. She was looking for astrological influences that would help bring them together, she guessed. After a while Andreatta said: “Rayhanah, listen to this. On the day of the prince’s feast, the moon is in the lunar mansion of Al Sa’d al Su’ud – the Luckiest of the Lucky.”

Rayhanah nodded. The Arabs often used a lunar zodiac of 28 days, the moon spending approximately one day in each sign. “The mansion that is most auspicious for marriage,” she said. 

“And what’s more, there is a conjunction of Venus and Mars in that mansion on the very same day. It’s hard to think of better aspects for marriage. And given their horoscopes…….. Rayhanah, we must get Ella to the prince’s feast some way or another. Will you see Buttons soon?”

“I’m going to the market tomorrow, Mistress.”

“Then make arrangements for us to meet as soon as possible. We need to think of a plan.”

When she was alone, she went to her closet. “The finest silks Toledo has to offer,” she murmured. “Jewellery made by the finest craftsmen. And golden slippers, woven with auspicious signs.” Everything Ella would need for the feast was there. With the help of the stars, she could not fail to win her prince. 

However, there was more to think about than that. Even if she could bring Ella and Ramiro together, it was unlikely that his parents would allow him to marry a girl with no fortune. She had to find out whether belladonna had been used on Fortun, and if so, when. Then there was the problem of finding out about the scribe who had written the will, a near impossible task. It was certain that Lady Toda would never allow her near the castle. Even if she got in using Buttons’ secret passage, what reason would she have to visit the scriptorium? Furthermore, she could hardly ask the scribe outright if he had written the will without the Baron’s knowledge or consent. This was going to be a more difficult task than simply getting Ella to the prince’s feast. She decided to deal with the question of the belladonna first, and visit the market tomorrow morning.

There were plenty of herbalists in Pamplona and remedies for all illnesses were available –some of which may possibly have worked. Nor were remedies the only things that were on sale. 

“Do I ever have fine ladies asking me for belladonna?” one of the herb sellers said in answer to Rayhanah’s question. Andreatta remained in the background. “Of course I do. Very convenient it is, when a herb can be used innocently to make a lady’s eyes look brighter – then if her husband dies, or she loses an unwanted admirer – who’d suspect?” The herbalist looked at Andreatta suspiciously. “Does her ladyship…?”

Andreatta shook her head. “No, my mistress doesn’t want any belladonna,” Rayhanah replied. “It was just curiosity, nothing more. She bought some innocent chamomile flowers, and they departed. 

“We’re not getting anywhere by asking if any lady of rank has bought belladonna recently” the maidservant said as they made their way through the bustling streets. “No,” her mistress replied. “As the herbalist said, it happens too often to be remarkable. However, did you notice that she had some unripe poppy fruits on sale?”

“What about them?” Rayhanah asked. “The juice of poppy fruits is used to make people sleep. How will that help us?” 

“That may become clear in time,” said Andreatta. “Rayhanah, have you arranged a time to meet Buttons?”

“Not yet, but I can do so.” 

“Then do so. We have a lot to talk about.”

* * *  
“It is very kind of you,” Ella said to Buttons, “but you don’t need to give up your chamber for me.”

“It is not right that a lady like yourself should sleep on a straw mattress with the maidservants,” he said.

“I don’t really mind it,” Ella replied. That was not true, but she did not want her old friend to know it. “The maids are always respectful to me. They have not yet forgotten that I was once their mistress.”

“Nonetheless, it’s still not right,” Buttons insisted. “I am only a servant, although I was your father’s favourite, and I’m happy to share their quarters. You are a lady of rank, and should have your own chamber.” Most of the servants in the castle slept in communal dormitories, but Buttons, who was in charge of all the internal affairs of the castle, had his own room by reason of his station.

“Where will you sleep then?” asked Ella. “I don’t want you to bed down with the grooms in the stables, or sleep in the kitchen with the spitboys.”

“I won’t do that,” he replied. “I will join the scribes. They have a higher rank than the other servants, and their quarters are more comfortable. Don’t feel concerned about me, Lady. “

“If my stepmother finds out, she will not be happy.”

“Well, we can worry about that when it happens. In the meantime, I would be happy if you took my chamber.” As he said so, he thought of the preparation of unripe poppy fruits which Andreatta had given him, and which he had hidden in the kitchen. He knew exactly what to do with it.

The scribes were rather surprised to see him in their sleeping quarters that evening, and some were inclined to make fun of him when he told them why.

“So he’s given up his chamber for Lady Ella,” said Toda’s scribe. “But then, we all know he’s in love with her.” “Well, she’s on his level now,” another laughed. “Maybe he thinks he’s got a chance at last.” Buttons said nothing. It might have been true once, but since he had met Rayhanah, he had begun to recognize his feelings as a childish crush. His feelings for Ella were now those of a best friend – and as a best friend he would do what he could for her. 

“You’re still a servant,” Toda’s scribe said. “You should bring us our supper, just like any other servant would.” Buttons bowed and went to the kitchen. This was indeed what he wanted. He returned carrying bread and cheese and wine in individual goblets. He kept his eye on the one for Toda’s scribe. 

After supper everyone settled down to sleep. Not everyone fell asleep at the same time, and there was some conversation in muted tones for a while after the lamps were dimmed. Buttons made sure he was next to Toda’s scribe. The poppy juice he had added to the man’s wine, was clearly having its effect, and he was now in a state between waking and sleep. 

“I don’t suppose you are in love with anyone,” Buttons said. “You were trained in a monastery, weren’t you? “ Indeed there was nowhere else that a scribe could be trained at that time. “I guess they discourage that sort of thing.” He asked this question as he had often heard the scribe disparage love.

“In love….” the scribe murmured. “Of course I am. That pretty maid who attends to Lady Urraca’s wardrobe. Wish I could pluck up the courage to speak to her.”

“Then why don’t you?” Buttons asked.

“Fear of the mistress.....” The scribes voice was becoming more slurred. “She may not want me…..taking away her daughter’s maid. I dread to think….dread to think….”

“What do you think she will do?” Buttons continued, but by then it was too late. The scribe was already in a deep sleep.

* * *

“It is as you said,” Buttons told Andreatta when he next met her. “When you give someone a potion of poppy juice, all their caution about telling lies disappears.”

“Yes. They speak truthfully when they’re not quite asleep and not quite awake, although they don’t know it. There is no fear of consequences. Only the present exists at that moment. But you did not find out what we want to know?”

“No. I didn’t get the chance. But one thing is certain. He is very much afraid of his mistress.”

“Then you must work on that. One more thing. You have met me in this church many times. Can you bring Ella here on the night of the prince’s feast?”

“I can do that. Her stepmother and stepsisters are attending the feast themselves, and so won’t be in the castle. They won’t know if I bring her. Are you planning….?

“To arrange for her to attend the feast, and meet the prince? Yes I am. What happens after that will need some thought. But you can leave that to me.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Just how afraid are you of the mistress?” Buttons asked Lady Toda’s scribe. He was now in the habit of sleeping next to him, and continued to add a preparation of white poppy juice to his wine every night. He spoke quietly, so anyone else who might still be awake would not hear.

“Very afraid,” the semi-conscious scribe murmured.

“What I mean is, would you do anything she asked of you?”

“What choice would I have? If I didn’t, it would mean the monastery or hiring myself out as a hack.”

“Even if it was something criminal? If she asked you to do something criminal, would you do it?”

“As I said, I wouldn’t have a choice.”

The time had come to directly ask the most important question. “If she had asked you, for instance, to fake the master’s will, would you have done it?”

“How did you know that?” The scribe was half-asleep and not thinking clearly.

This was as good as a confession, Buttons thought, and he decided to press it further. “Because I saw you going into his room once with the mistress and some documents. She said it was for him to dictate another will – but you had already written it, hadn’t you? The documents you had were not a will at all . You got him to sign the fake will later when he was not in his right mind.”

“Wrote the will without him knowing……..don’t know anything about signing it though.” Buttons was about to ask another question, but it was too late. The scribe was now in a deep sleep – the kind that only the juice of white poppies could bring about.

* * *

“It’s the confession we wanted,” Buttons said to Andreatta next time they met. “But how do we prove it? I can’t write, and even if I got one of the other scribes to write it, the mistress would just accuse us of making it up. “

“You could be right,” Andreatta mused. “But it’s said that even if a crime can’t be proved, merely confronting the guilty party can be enough to make them admit to it. It is very difficult to lie convincingly when you know that someone else knows you’re lying. In the meantime, the date of Prince Ramiro’s feast is getting closer. Have you told Ella what she must do?”

“Yes, she knows you want her to come here. She’s not entirely sure what to expect, but just knowing that you have not forgotten her has lifted her spirits. She trusts you as though you were her own mother, Mistress, and will do exactly what you ask.”

“I wish I was her mother. Well, ensure that she is here on the night. Everything will be ready. I may have another task for you too, Buttons. And don’t forget, if you can get through the secret passageway to this chapel, I can get through it into the castle too.” 

They took leave of each other. The next day, Andreatta decided, she would be in the forest she knew and loved so well. She had no intention of going to any herb seller for belladonna and arousing suspicion as to her motives, but she knew enough of herblore to be able to find the plant for herself. 

* * *

Ella followed Buttons through the passage to the old chapel and was delighted when she saw Andreatta waiting for her, with servants Rayhanah and Khalid. There was someone in the background she did not recognize, but she was too glad to see her old protector again that she did not worry about it. She threw herself into the older woman’s arms.

“My child,” said Andreatta, “it’s so good to see you again. Tonight, you are going to Prince Ramiro’s birthday feast. The moon is in a lunar mansion that is propitious for marriage, and I intend to make sure that you get the husband of your heart’s desire.”

Ella was not sure what a lunar mansion was, but was glad to hear that she was going to the feast. She looked down at her plain, homespun robe. “How can I go dressed like this?” 

“You won’t.” Andreatta signaled to Rayhanah, who opened a large bag and drew out of it a gown of purest rose-coloured silk woven with golden thread. “It didn’t take much to alter my old clothes to fit you, did it Rayhanah? Now, come into this side room, and let me adorn you properly.”

When they emerged, the men gasped in amazement. The coarsely-clad maiden of the cinders was gone. In her place was a vision of beauty. The rose-coloured robe set off her complexion perfectly. Her hair, which had hung loose, was now braided with golden thread, and on her head she wore a veil of white silk, set with shimmering crystals. Golden earrings, a necklace,and bracelets set with the same crystals, completed the outfit. 

“The wealth of the Moors is beyond imagination,” the girl said, astonished herself by what she had become. 

“It is indeed”, Andreatta replied. “Now, there is just one more thing that is needed. These golden slippers were given to me by my teacher long ago in Toledo. I give them to you now. Wear them to the feast.” She bent down and placed the slippers on her feet. They fitted perfectly. Andreatta stood up.

“Now you are all ready to leave. Khalid will drive you in my carriage. I can’t let you have Rayhanah as an attendant, as your stepmother will be there, and may recognize her. However, you must have an escort.” The figure hidden in the shadows came forward. It took a moment for Ella to recognize Tomas, no longer a servant but dressed as finely as herself. “It was a good idea to bring back some of my late husband’s clothes from Toledo,” said Andreatta. “And luckily they fit Tomas too. We merchants may be commoners, but we can often afford to dress better than the nobility. And here is as fine a nobleman as ever returned from a mission to the land of the Moors, don’t you think? As his sister, you must surely be welcome at the feast.”

“You mean I must not tell him who I am?” Ella said. Andreatta nodded. “At the moment, it would be impossible for you to marry – the King and Queen would not allow their son to marry a girl with no fortune. We must prove you were cheated out of your inheritance first”. That made Ella think of something else. “My stepmother and stepsisters will be there. What will I do if they recognize me?”

“They won’t. It will be dark, you can stay away from them, and besides, I will be working with the celestial influences to ensure that nothing can harm you– don’t worry about how. Just a couple of other things – first, you must leave at midnight.”

“Why is that?”

“Because that is when the moon leaves the mansion of Al Sa’d al Su’ud, the mansion for marriage, and then the heavenly influences will lose their power. So you must leave then. Secondly, as you leave, let one of the slippers fall from your feet, so the prince can find it.”

“Is there a reason for that too?”

“Yes, but I can’t tell you now what it is.” She kissed the girl on her forehead. “Go now – go to your destiny, child.”

When they were gone, Andreatta turned to Buttons, and gave him a small package. It contained some black berries and flowers with dull purple flowers and yellow anthers. He knew what they were. “Mistress, you don’t intend to use these ….?”

“No, of course not. But I do want them to be found. Place them in the kitchens, in a place where they can be found by one of the maids – someone uninvolved, someone your mistress would have no reason to suspect. I’ll tell you when the time is right. Then we will confront her and see how she reacts. In the meantime you may go, and I will make sure that Ella obtains the husband of her heart.”

After returning home, Andreatta dismissed Rayhanah, and locked the door to her chamber. She opened the window shutters so that only the light of the moon illuminated the room. “Lady Toda believes I am a witch,” she murmured. “I suppose I may as well prove it.” She had long known that among the Moors some people performed spells according to the position of the moon in the lunar mansions, but she had never been inclined to the practice herself. However, the circumstances were exceptional, and now the time had come, she felt, to call on the celestial powers. She had already traced a circle in the middle of the room, and set candles around it. Now she cast the magic circle that would protect her from outside influences and lit the candles. The next step was to draw the symbol of the lunar mansion on a piece of virgin parchment, and fumigate it with the appropriate incense, all the time thinking of the couple she wanted to bring together. She kept her mind focused on them. Then she turned her thoughts to the ancient stories of heroines so like her Ella. She concentrated on the stories of Rhodopis, of Maha. What had happened long ago could happen again. It would be again as it was then – even down to the loss of the golden slipper. Although there was a more practical for that, too. It was a way of buying time so that the evidence against Toda could be built up.

The moon flooded the magic circle. Andreatta held up the parchment, so that the symbol on it was illuminated by its light. She saw Ella and Ramiro together. She kept her mind focused on that. By all the powers of the heavens, it would be.

* * *

The soldiers on guard outside the royal castle had never seen a couple like the pair who emerged from the elegant carriage shortly after Prince Ramiro’s feast had begun. From the richness of their dress, they had to be noble, and when the man explained that he had recently returned from a diplomatic visit to the south, and was attending with his sister, they did not question any further. Later, one of them told another that he had not really been thinking clearly when they arrived. But then, the moon had been very prominent in the sky at that moment, and as everyone knew, the moon could addle your mind.

In the castle’s great hall, Ramiro was bored. He had met most of the daughters of the nobility before, and none of them really appealed to him as a wife. Neither Urraca nor Sancha was in a very good mood. They had both been introduced to the prince, and he had been polite but clearly uninterested. They wondered what they could do to attract his attention. He, for his part, wondered if the girl from the forest would be there. 

It was a fine clear night and he glanced up at one of the high windows. The entire globe of the moon was visible through it. Just at that moment, a couple entered the chamber – a richly dressed man accompanied by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She seemed to glow in the moonlight and Ramiro thought he had seen her before. He could hear the guests murmuring – no-one seemed to know who the couple were. Intrigued, he decided to dispense with formality, and approach them directly. As soon as he saw he saw her, he knew. “You are the girl in the forest.”  
“Yes.”

Entranced, he drew her to the main table. There would be dancing that evening, but for now he wanted to find out who she was. Everyone was looking at them. Urraca nudged her mother. “Mother, who is that girl? He won’t look at us, but can’t take his eyes off her. Who is she?”

“I don’t know. There’s something familiar about her, though….” She strained to look, but in a hall lit only by the light of lamps and a fire, it was not easy to get a good glimpse. Besides, she felt strangely confused that night, as though she was under a spell. 

The evening wore on. Ramiro did not take his attention from the beautiful stranger all night. He learnt her name was Ella and her brother had just returned from Andalusia. (Tomas himself, to avoid awkward questions, had hidden himself near the door of the great hall with a goblet of wine and kept out of the way.). He learnt that she could read a little bit, and wanted to learn all she could from the Moors – she could have been made for his own heart. He led her into the dancing area, and for a while it seemed that time had stopped.

A great bell rang out – the signal that it was midnight. Suddenly Ella remembered what Andreatta had told her, and pulled away from the prince. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking up at the moon, which was still just visible through the high window. “I must go now.”

“Why? The festivities will not finish until later…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t explain, I just must leave now.” She quickly took her leave, found Tomas, and hurried out. “Wait!” Ramiro called. “When will I see you again?” It was already too late. She was running down the steps, apparently in such a hurry that one of her golden slippers fell from her foot. He bent to pick it up, and saw that a carriage was already speeding away.

In her chamber, Andreatta lowered the parchment bearing the sigil of Al Sa’d al Su’ud, blew out all the candles, uncast the magic circle, and gazed up at the moon. Its work was done.


	6. Chapter 6

“A diplomatic mission to the southern lands?” King Garcia snorted. “I haven’t sent anyone on any mission to Andalusia recently. Did this man give his name?”

Ramiro hesitated. He had been so absorbed in the fair stranger that he had not even bothered to ask the name of her “brother”. Indeed, it was not even until the two strangers had departed that the other guests had realized they did not know who they were.

“The girl told me her name. She said her name was Ella,” he replied defensively.

“And how do you know that is true? If the man was lying, why not the girl? Still, if you’re so insistent that you won’t marry any other girl other than the one that left this golden slipper, see if you can find her. Make sure she is of noble birth, and there will be no problems. But if you want my opinion,” – the king snorted again – “you won’t have much success.

* * *

Stoking up the fire, in her ragged homespun dress, Ella wondered if the previous night had all been a dream. It had been a wonderful experience, but now that she was back in her kitchen, covered in ashes again, she wondered if all Andreatta’s talk of lunar mansions and the celestial powers affecting human destiny was nothing more than wishful thinking. Would anything ever come of it? She had given all her beautiful clothes and jewellery back to the merchant’s daughter, and wondered if she would ever see them again. Still, she would always have the memory – that at least was something. A burst of cinders shot from the fire – she was covered in dirt again.

* * *  
A few days later Urraca and Sancha were full of excitement. There was a story going round that the prince was determined to find the mysterious girl who had left behind a golden slipper, and was prepared to travel around the kingdom to look for her. 

“It could be anyone,” Sancha said. “How many people will a slipper fit? It could be you, it could be me. Why shouldn’t it be one of us? If it fits us, how will he know?”

“Well, this girl had light brown hair, not dark hair like us,” Urraca replied. “Besides, don’t they say that the slipper is Moorish in design? It comes from the southern country.” She stopped as a sudden realization hit her. She looked at Ella. Was it possible that she was the girl at the feast? Had that Andalusian witch somehow managed to get her to the feast, against all the odds? She decided she had better have a word with her mother.

It was no surprise to Ella when her stepmother told her the next day that she was never to leave the kitchen area without permission, and furthermore that she would be locked in the maidservants’ quarters at night. She had guessed that her stepmother might have realized who she was, and now she knew. 

“It means I won’t be able to sleep in your chamber anymore”, she said to Buttons. He nodded. It was not so important to him as its purpose had been accomplished. But it mattered greatly to her. She threw herself into his arms and sobbed on his shoulder. “Even if the prince comes to the castle with the golden slipper now, he will never know I am here.”

Buttons was not so sure. He had another task to perform for Andreatta. He was not sure what its significance was, but he trusted her decisions. As soon as he was alone, he placed some black berries and purple flowers with yellow anthers in the area where the herbs and spices were kept. He put them behind the jars of herb, so they would not be easy to find, but he knew that sooner or later, one of the maids would find them.

So it happened. A few days later, a maid approached with the plants. “Master Buttons, do you know what these are?” she asked. “I have certainly never used them in cooking. They don’t look wholesome to me.”

“I don’t know,” he replied. He knew full well what they were, but it was his part to play the innocent. “I could take them down to the scriptorium. They have herbals there, and the castle physician might know. Let me do that.”

There was indeed a herbal in the scriptorium. The physician, who knew nothing of what was going on, identified the plants easily. “Belladonna!” he exclaimed. “Why would anyone here want that? The mistress doesn’t use it to brighten her eyes, neither do the young mistresses. Surely it can’t be….” He hesitated.

“It’s difficult to think of any other reason,” Buttons said. “But who would want to do it? I think I had better keep these for a while, and wait until we see anyone acting suspiciously. Then of course we would have to alert the king’s authorities. But let’s wait awhile first.”

It was not long afterwards that Ramiro and his entourage arrived at the castle with the golden slipper, seeking to find the girl it belonged to. Urraca and Sancha were of course only too eager to put themselves forward. “It belongs to me,” Urraca said boldly. Sancha glared at her. “She’s a liar, your highness. It is mine. She only wants…..”

“If you both claim it, how can I tell who is telling the truth?” the prince interrupted. Even on short acquaintance, he felt he did not like either of these girls. “Besides, I am sure the girl I met had lighter hair than either of you. Did not Baron Fortun have another daughter? I’ve heard mention of it at court occasionally.”

“That is so,” the girls’ mother replied. “However, he wrote her out of his will, and she can have nothing to bring to a husband now.”

“Nonetheless, I would like to meet her.”

“I’m afraid it’s not possible,” Lady Toda replied smoothly. She was thinking on her feet. “She is considering entering a nunnery now, and is away preparing for it.”

He was not convinced. There was something about her manner that made him feel she was not telling the truth. However, there was no way of proving it. He turned his attention back to the other two girls. “Ladies, if one of you was the girl at my feast, there is a simple test. Whoever the slipper belongs to must have the other one.”

They looked at each other. Neither of them had thought of that. Lady Toda thought on her feet again. She decided that she would rather have Urraca, the elder, marry into the royal family than Sancha. “I think it may be in Urraca’s chamber,” she said. “I will go and look for it.” She knew she would have to lie about that when she returned, but that was not her purpose in leaving. She was heading for the kitchen, where she found Ella working at the spit as usual. “You will not leave this room all day,” she said.

“But stepmother, I never do…..”

“Just to make sure, the door will be locked, in case any stranger visits the castle.” Ella’s heart sank. She guessed what was happening. “No-one will never know you are here.” 

“No-one except me.” Andreatta appeared from the shadows, Buttons beside her. They were both holding something in their hands.

“You! How did you get in? How dare you show your face here?”

“I suppose the Master never told you about the secret passage that leads to sanctuary,” Buttons said. She was silent. He opened his hand. “But I suppose you could tell us something about these.” She gasped as she saw the black berries and purple flowers – surely she had disposed of them all. “I thought….” Realising she was about to incriminate herself, she stopped. “Where did you find them?” “I didn’t,” Andreatta replied. “It was one of the maids, wasn’t it, Buttons? Call her now.” The maid was called and told her story. Toda knew her and knew that she was not involved in her schemes and had no reason to lie. She looked around shiftily. How could she get out of this?

“You obviously know what they are” Andreatta continued. “I imagine you could find a use for them, too.”

Toda’s face reddened. “Are you accusing me of murdering my husband?”

“No. No, I think you’re an unscrupulous woman, but I don’t think you’d go that far. You did use them though. You know that in the right dosage, they don’t kill but they can be used to make a person confused. That’s how you used them. You got him to sign a will he didn’t dictate, while he didn’t know what he was doing. And that means it has no legal validity.”

“You …. you can’t prove that.” Andreatta could not, but Toda’s stammering and red face told her she had in the mark.

“Maybe not. But the prince and many of the king’s men are here now, aren’t they? I can go to them with these plants, and tell them where and how they were found. Perhaps you would like to explain yourself to them.”

She was not sure what to do. She had no explanation for why belladonna would be in the kitchen, and everyone knew what her husband’s condition had been shortly before he died. A knowledgeable physician would recognize the signs of belladonna poisoning, and how would she prove she had not killed him? She was trapped. She had no idea how Andreatta had found it out, unless it was her witchcraft, but the only way forward was to admit to what had happened.

“Yes. That’s what I did. The second will was drawn up without my husband’s knowledge, and the first one was destroyed. Then I got him to sign it when he was confused. I wasn’t going to see my girls have nothing, while that brat got everything.” Even in the most dangerous moment of her life, she still could not forget her hatred for Ella. 

“And now, she will get it anyway. Because you will now bring the second will here and burn it. Without a will, that means everything goes to Ella anyway. If not…..” Buttons held up the belladonna plants to complete what Andreatta had said.

Very soon the fake will was on the kitchen fire, burning. “Now,” said Andreatta, “we will introduce Ella to the prince.” Toda felt as though she was going to explode, but could do nothing about it. 

Ramiro was getting rather tired of the company of Urraca and Sancha. Each was trying to impress him, each one telling tales about herself that became more and more unbelieveable as they wore on. There was no sign of the missing slipper. He decided he was wasting his time here and it was time to go. Suddenly the door to the great hall opened. Lady Toda entered, together with a girl in the simple gown of a maidservant, a manservant he had briefly seen earlier, and a richly-attired lady of noble bearing. He wondered who she was for a moment, and then remembered having also met her in the forest. But he had eyes only for Ella. He approached her and took both her hands. “It was you,” he said. “You were the girl at the feast, and the girl I met in the forest. Are you Baron Fortun’s eldest daughter?” She nodded. “Then why the pretence?”

“We wanted to see how devoted to her you were,” Andreatta put in. “If you loved here without knowing who she was, then that would be a sign that your love was true.”

“And it is,” he said, meeting Ella’s eyes. Then he turned to Toda. “Why did you tell me she had nothing and was away training for the nunnery?”

Toda coughed. “That was a mistake,” she said. “My husband died without a will, and I think I was confused, and thought that it meant Ella would have nothing. Of course, I now realize it means she gets everything.” 

“It was an honest mistake,” Andreatta put in, glancing almost imperceptibly at Toda as she said it. She had no desire to see this ruthless woman get into trouble, but would not hesitate to tell the truth if she felt there was a need for it. “Ella was indeed training for the nunnery, but as her godmother, I persuaded her that she still had prospects, and that she should return to the castle.” She exchanged another brief glance with Toda. Whatever the other woman was feeling, she was concealing it well. Urraca, however, was not. “How do you know she’s the girl at the feast?” she asked. “After all, you asked us if we had the other slipper. Why not ask her?”

“No need.” Andreatta opened her hand and showed what she was carrying. It was the other golden slipper. “Now, your highness, if you try this on with the one you have, I think you’ll find they’re both the same.”

He did so. The cloth of gold, the elaborate embroidery, the auspicious signs – they were all the same. There was no doubt now in his mind – he had found his bride.

* * * 

Ella and Ramiro were married in the royal chapel of the palace of Pamplona. Her stepmother and stepsisters sat in the front benches, trying hard to look happy, but not quite succeeding. Andreatta sat towards the back, a quiet smile on her face. Now she knew her protégé would always be happy.

After the ceremony Ella stopped to talk to her for a while. “You know, sometimes I think you must have been sent to help me,” she said. “How strange you turned up when it was my darkest hour. How can I ever thank you for all you’ve done?”

“By fulfilling all your duties as the wife of a great man. And when you are queen of Viguera, you will soon forget about me.”

“Not at all,” Ramiro intervened. “We would like to come and live with us, if it is your wish. We could both benefit from your advice. Buttons, of course, is leaving Lady Toda’s service, and will become part of our household,”

“And so if you come and live with us and bring Rayhanah with you, it might be even better,” Ella added slyly. Andreatta laughed. “How strange it is that the old stories keep repeating themselves,” she said. “Rhodopis, Maha, and now you. I wonder if people will still be telling your story hundreds of years from now.”

“If they are,” said Ella, “they’ll probably make it more fantastic than it really was, because I don’t think those old stories really happened as people told them. I wonder how they’ll remember you, for instance. So many already think you’re a witch.”

“Who knows?” said Andreatta. “Perhaps in time, I won’t even be a witch. I may even become a magical sprite myself.”

“One of the spirits of the lunar mansions, perhaps,” said Ramiro.

She smiled to herself. It would a strange transition, to go from being a merchant’s daughter of Toledo to a heavenly power. But would it be stranger than Ella’s transition from a maid of the cinders to a Queen? It was a kind of alchemy. She really would have to get back to some of her Arabic authors to read up on that.


End file.
